


Just Doing His Job

by Savageseraph



Category: Eastern Promises (2007), GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Blood, Captivity, Community: sons_of_gondor, Crossover, Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation | FSB, Fights, Guns, Imprisonment, Injury, M/M, Russian Mafia, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, Spies & Secret Agents, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nikolai wasn’t bound.  That was good.  His leg didn’t protest as he tensed it.  Also good.  He wasn’t clothed or armed.  Both were bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Doing His Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evocates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evocates/gifts).



> Written for the [](http://sons-of-gondor.livejournal.com/profile)[**sons_of_gondor**](http://sons-of-gondor.livejournal.com/) Halloween Trick Or Treat Fic/Art Exchange, for [](http://evocates.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://evocates.livejournal.com/)**evocates** , who asked for Nikolai and Alec working together after the events of _Eastern Promises_. I think this is a probably a part one of two.

_Two clips._

Nikolai sighed over his meager supply of ammunition as he eased one of the cartridges into his gun. His hand shook. He wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline or blood loss from the wound in his leg. The gash was shallow, but that didn’t stop it from bleeding like a bastard. Two clips weren’t going to be enough to get him past the men pinning him down in the warehouse. There were too many of them, and most had automatics.

Two clips wasn’t nearly enough.

Surrender and die, or fight and die. Nikolai wet his lips. He didn’t particularly relish either choice, but surrender wasn’t an option. Whether it was pride or tenacity or an extreme lack of good sense, Nikolai never had been able to back down from a fight. He shifted, craning his neck to glance past the crates that shielded him from the other gunmen, and jerked back when a flurry of bullets slammed into the wall behind him. A rain of plaster and dust made his eyes burn.

If he was an optimistic man, Nikolai supposed he might try to hold off his enemies until reinforcements shot their way in, evened the odds. However, he was too practical for such fancies. He suspected his team would feel relief more than anything else if he went permanently missing or if the only thing they recovered from this debacle was his corpse. Sure, they’d given him accolades for the job he’d done with the vor, but while they might have approved of the results, he couldn’t miss the scorn at what he was willing to do to close the case.

Since he hadn’t returned fire in some time, Nikolai heard some of the men moving, closing in, no doubt, thinking he was out of ammo or dead. Preferably the latter. They’d send the new muscle in first, the ones who didn’t realize they would be caught in the crossfire if he was able to shoot and their buddies would gun them down if it meant ending him. Nikolai smiled grimly. If he couldn’t get out of this particular mess alive, the least he could do was to take as many of these fuckers with him as possible.

Nikolai closed his eyes, steadied his breathing and his nerves. He had to make every shot count. _Every last one._

The sound got closer to Nikolai’s niche. Closer.

His eyes snapped open as he sat up, fired three times in the direction of the sound. He heard someone scream and more bullets slammed into the wall behind him as he threw himself back down. You didn’t have to be accurate when you had so many bullets to spend, but it helped.

He chuckled as his adversaries started talking at the same time.

“I’m fucking hit.”

“He got Mills. Fucker blew his brains out.”

“You’re gonna regret that, motherfucker. You’re fucking d--.” The man’s words stopped in a choked gurgle.

Nikolai’s brow furrowed. What the hell? Even with a half dozen men with guns aimed at him, he was tempted to try and see what was happening. There was a sudden silence that stretched thin and then taught. A sharp scream followed by a brief burst of gunfire shattered the silence.

“Someone else is out here.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“This is bull—” A flurry of voices, the last cut off mid-word.

Nikolai glanced over the crates. There was no gunfire. No sound at all. He sank back down. This could be a trap to draw him out, but he didn’t think so. He’d heard enough men die to know those sounds were genuine. He tensed his leg, wincing at the pull of the wound. He wondered if his leg would hold him through a sprint for the door.

A thunk against the wall and floor behind Nikolai made him jerk. His eyes widened at the silver canister that rocked gently on the floor. A soft hiss started instantly, but by the time he held his breath, dots were already dancing in front of his eyes. His head and the room spun wildly as his stomach lurched. He gasped, drew in ragged breath. His eyes watered, throat constricted, just before he slipped into darkness.

###

Consciousness came slowly to Nikolai. Slowly enough for him to appreciate the expensive sheets wrapped around him. They were soft and cool under his cheek. Usually when he woke up after a hellish job, it was to the stiff, coarse linens and bleach of hospital or military bedding.

This was definitely nicer. _Much nicer._

And that thought made him tense. Unexpected indulgences, random kindnesses, they had a way of chipping away at defenses. Weakening a man. They were a luxury he couldn’t afford.

Nikolai didn’t open his eyes, didn’t move, taking stock of his situation while his…captor? savior…? hopefully still thought he slept. He wasn’t bound. That was good. His leg didn’t protest as he tensed it. Also good. He wasn’t clothed or armed. Both were bad. He had killed men with his bare hands before, but it wasn’t something he usually relished.

“If you’re quite through planning how to fight your way out of a non-existent trap, Mr. Luzhin, you might want to open your eyes.”

Nikolai’s eyes snapped open at the words. His hand balled into a fist at the amused tone. His gaze panned across an ultra modern bedroom, a blend of cream and chrome and glass, before settling on the man slouched in a chair. His black jeans and t-shirt guaranteed he would stand out in the light-colored room. Of course, his looks alone would have earned him a second look even if he was dressed in rags. A bemused smile curved the other man’s lips, the smile of a man who knew he was striking and enjoyed getting confirmation of that from others.

Nikolai sat up cautiously. He bit down on the flood of questions: Where am I? Why am I here? What the hell do you think you’re doing? The one question he didn’t need answered was Who are you? He’d seen this man on a visit to the MI-6 offices, and predators always managed to sense the presence of another of their kind. Unlike the man, who was undoubtedly one of the double-ohs, Nikolai was a killer by necessity, not by employ. He wondered which of them was made more dangerous by that.

“I do apologize for the gas, but under the circumstances, I felt it was the only prudent course of action.”

“Prudent?” Nikolai licked his lips, swung his legs over the side of the bed, gathering the sheets around him as the other man’s gaze moved slowly over his body.

“Of course. In your…condition, I couldn’t risk that you’d be able to recognize friend from foe, and well, as we’ve established, I’m not the sort of man who leaves things to chance.”

“Naturally.” Nikolai saw his guns, knives, and wallet on a dressing table. His clothes, however, were another story, and Nikolai wanted them more than he did his knives. His jaw tensed as he wondered if he was expected to ask for them. “Thank you. For your assistance, Mr…?”

If the thanks surprised Nikolai’s companion, he didn’t show it. He rose gracefully, offered Nikolai his hand. “Trevelyan. Alec Treveylan.” He laughed softly. “You don’t like being at a disadvantage, do you?”

“Not many men do.” The words came out more clipped than he intended, and he cursed himself as they earned a smirk.

“My team was notified of your mission to get information on the Vargas export business. What the police didn’t know was that the family wasn’t just running drugs. The sorts of weapons they were brokering, well, businesses like that tend to be a bit beyond the means of the traditional authorities.”

“Is that so?” Trevelyan couldn’t miss the frost in Nikolai’s words. He stood, letting the sheet fall away. It would be an unnecessary encumbrance if he needed to move quickly. He smiled faintly at the flicker of surprise on Trevelyan’s face when the linens dropped. There was a fine line between confidence and arrogance and Alec was so far on the arrogant side Nikolai bet that he couldn’t even see the other side.

Trevelyan stepped back, whether to give Nikolai some space or to give himself more room to manoeuver if he needed to. “We’ve notified your superiors the situation has been neutralized and that we recovered you from the scene.”

“Isn’t it typical to bring someone who is wounded to the hospital?”

Trevelyan shrugged. “I’ve never felt overly constrained by the typical.” He waved his hand, brushing away the rules he clearly held in contempt. “Besides, your wound was minor. Nothing that I couldn’t handle.”

Nikolai gritted his teeth. “That might be comforting if you weren’t the sort of man who thinks you can handle anything.”

Trevelyan’s eyes narrowed for an instant before he tossed his head back as he laughed. “I suspect that’s a vice we share.” A pause while he wet his lips. “Nikolai.” His voice caressed Nikolai’s name in a manner that suggested an intimacy they didn’t... _wouldn’t_ share.

Before Nikolai could do more than open his mouth to protest, Trevelyan continued. “I took the liberty of reviewing your file. You have a sheaf of commendations about your work bringing down the human trafficking ring the vor were running.”

Nikolai shrugged, made a non-committal sound. He eyed Trevelyan warily. “I did my job. Nothing more.”

“Ah.” Trevelyan savored the sound. “We both know that isn’t strictly true, don’t we?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Nikolai’s tone would have been enough to make a lesser man back off. Fast.

“Of course you do.” Trevelyan gave Nikolai an appraising head-to-toes look. “You know exactly what I mean. But, since you insist on being coy, not every man throws himself so fully into his job.”

“It’s necessary for a deep-cover assignment, wouldn’t you say?” Nikolai folded his arms across his chest.

“Is it necessary to seduce your targets? Fuck them? Or perhaps you let him fuck you?”

Nikolai swung at Trevelyan’s jaw, but the man moved quickly, dodging the blow as he grabbed Nikolai’s arm, swung him around, and jerked his arm up behind his back. Nikolai hissed in pain, tried to twist out of Trevelyan’s grip, but the man curled his other arm around Nikolai’s waist, leaned into his back.

“That wasn’t very friendly, Nikolai.” Trevelyan laughed a bit breathlessly. “Where are your manners?”

“Fuck yourself.” Nikolai tried to shake Trevelyan off, but he couldn’t get any leverage.

Trevelyan laughed softly, the sound tickling against the side of Nikolai’s neck. “Why would I do that when there are other more interesting possibilities?”


End file.
